


Blessed Are You

by queensguardian



Series: All For The Game Musings [9]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Christmas!fic, Cuddles, Holidays, Jewish!Neil, M/M, Neil is still shocked when people do nice things for him, Panic Attacks, celebrating mixed holidays, gratuitous smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensguardian/pseuds/queensguardian
Summary: The Foxes find out that Neil is Jewish and has never really gotten to celebrate any Jewish Holidays. As Winter Break and the anniversary of Proust and Evermore approach, the Foxes come up with an idea.





	Blessed Are You

**Author's Note:**

> This was such a fun fic to write. It was such a learning experience, and so cathartic for me to write about a year after the events of the last book. 
> 
> Thank you so so much to tumblr users [karmilleryn](http://karmilleryn.tumblr.com/) [addicted2reading](http://addicted2reading16.tumblr.com/) and [suicidal-oreos](https://suicidal-oreos.tumblr.com/) for sharing your culture with me and helping me write Jewish! Neil. I so appreciate you taking the time to help me and I feel so honored by you sharing your traditions with me. 
> 
> I love holiday fics, so I hope you all enjoy! Thank you so much for the support, as always!

As the days counted down to the winter break, Neil found himself feeling more and more restless. It wasn’t like the holidays had ever been great for him, exactly, but the last one in particular had been especially bad for everyone.

The anniversary of Drake had come and gone. It had been a predictably horrible day, but they’d gotten through it. Thanksgiving had been fine, but now things were starting to get uncomfortable.

Everyone was walking on eggshells, around both him and Andrew. It seemingly had no effect on Andrew (Neil knew better), but it was starting to grate on Neil’s nerves. They all knew what had happened last year, but no one was brave enough to broach the subject, which Neil just couldn’t stand.

Finally, the dreaded question was asked, about three weeks before the winter break.

“So, Neil…” Dan was lounging between Matt’s legs on the floor, some Disney movie Neil hadn’t been paying attention to playing in the background.

“What are you and Andrew doing for Christmas this year?”

The rest of the room fell suspiciously silent. It was Allison, Renee, Kevin and Neil. All eyes were on Neil, and his jaw tensed, before he forcefully relaxed it.

When he hesitated, Renee piped up.

“Allison is coming home with me this year, and I know that Stephanie would love to have one more.”

“And Dan and I are switching between her house with her sisters and mine—you’re welcome to come.” Matt smiled softly at Neil, but Neil could see the underlining concern there.

Kevin scowled at the carpet for a minute, before finally turning his eyes to Neil’s. “I’m going to be at Wymack’s this year.”

There was no spoken invitation, but Neil heard it anyway.

Neil chewed on his lip. “I don’t…”

He stopped for a moment, frustrated, but they waited patiently for him to speak. He was really trying to be honest with all of them. He didn’t want to break his promise to Matt, or the silent one to the rest of them. But being honest meant uncomfortable truths sometimes.

He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he trusted everyone here.

“Look. Thank you guys so much. Really. But the truth is, I don’t know yet. What Andrew or I are doing. We haven’t talked about it. But…even before… Evermore. The holidays were never something we did. Mom and I were always moving, and Winter was always the hardest time to be on the run and homeless. And at home,” Neil paused for breath. He didn’t think he could provide any details, but they didn’t need any. They all knew who his father had been.

The closest he’d come to celebrating Hanukkah was one year when his mother had brought some roasted chestnuts and a single candle to their freezing little apartment in the UK. They’d eaten them slowly, watching the snow fall outside, and it had been almost nice.

“And besides. Not like we ever celebrated, but I wouldn’t be celebrating Christmas at home anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Allison asked, drumming her nails on the table.

“Well, I would probably be celebrating Hanukkah. I guess.”

There were a few shocked glances, but no one said anything for a confused moment.

“You’re… Jewish?” Matt asked haltingly. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Well it’s not like I was keeping it from you. We never did holidays, and last year this time I never had any intentions of doing any celebrating.” There was a collective wince at the reminder of Neil’s plans for last year’s holidays. Neil was glad Nicky wasn’t here; the man would probably have started crying. As it was Matt was starting to look a little teary-eyed.

“So are you going to be doing anything…Jewish for holidays? Celebrating Hanukkah? Or something?” Kevin asked.

“Like I said, who knows.” Neil closed his eyes for a moment, deciding to stay honest with them, despite how it made him feel nauseous. “I haven’t talked to Andrew about it yet. But… I think I’ll be mostly trying to avoid triggers this Holiday. So. Maybe a quiet break.”

“Neil, do you want the Foxes to stay together this Christmas?” Allison’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and she rested her chin on Renee’s knee.

Neil thought about it. “You guys have already missed spring break earlier this year. I can’t ask you to stay away from your families for another holiday just for me. No. I’ll be f-we’ll be ok. Andrew and I will figure something out.”

They shared a glance that Neil couldn’t decipher.

“Ok, Neil. We won’t bother you about it. But,” Matt leaned forward earnestly. “Just don’t spend it here doing nothing. I know I told you that last year, but I can’t deal with you having another sad holiday. Promise me?”

A tide of emotion swelled in Neil’s chest. It was still so strange, having these people care about him so deeply. 

“I promise.”

 

 

True to their word, no one brought it up again. Neil busied himself with finals, and dealing with the freshmen, and spending time with Andrew. He hadn’t wanted Neil’s touch around the anniversary of Drake’s attack, which Neil of course respected. And as the holidays approached Neil knew that no matter what Andrew said, his memory was being thrust back to Proust the same way Neil’s was to Riko. 

Andrew hadn’t told Neil everything, probably never would. But Neil knew enough. Knew more now, than before. Enough to wish that the mobs hadn’t gotten their hands on him so he could take care of it himself. But that was in the past. Now they just had to deal with the shrapnel.

And though Neil would never have said anything out loud, Andrew seemed to know that he was feeling more and more vulnerable the closer they got to break. Neil was noticing that his touch was growing more frequent again. It was little things; a brush against his back as he passed, or pulling Neil’s feet into his lap during a movie night with the Foxes. They still weren’t doing anything sexual, but Neil didn’t need that anyway.

These things were the reasons that Neil knew he would never believe Andrew’s death threats or ‘I hate you’s. It was in the way Andrew brought him a black coffee in the morning without asking, or how he would pull Neil out of bed and into the car for a long drive after one of them had a nightmare (and the fact that he trusted Neil enough to wake him up even after Andrew had woken up with the ghosts of hands on him). 

So Neil was doing his best to ground himself in those things, and in the way the other Foxes were rallied around him and each other, trying to make the time fun and light. 

Despite their bright smiles, Neil knew that the holidays weren’t exactly easy on any of the Foxes. They’d gotten better, over the years, but he saw how hard they fought for their peace and joy. Nothing was ever easy for people like them.

He ignored the steadily growing amount of decorations that were all over campus and even in all of their dorms. He ignored the growing uneasiness in his gut in favor of practice and games and studying. And everything was normal. Everything was fine.

So it was surprising when, on the fifteenth of December, he came into his shared apartment to find Andrew waiting for him on the couch. 

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else; Andrew was just sitting there, book in hand, his glasses slid down his nose as he turned the pages. But Neil knew his body language, saw the way his foot jiggled a little, and how his pose was tenser than usual.

“What is it? What happened?” Neil asked, dropping his backpack and going to join Andrew on the couch. 

Andrew set down his book and rolled his eyes, turning to face Neil. “Why does something have to have happened? You’re so dramatic.”

Neil just leveled a flat look at him. 

Andrew broke first. He rolled his shoulders, stiff from sitting and waiting for Neil. “I have been approached by your friends.”

“They’re your friends too.”

“Don’t interrupt. I have been approached by your friends about the winter holiday. They would like to spend it with us, and they wanted me to talk to you about it.”

Neil squinted at him suspiciously. “You didn’t tell them to fuck off?”

Andrew met his gaze with steel in his eyes. “You didn’t tell me that you’re Jewish?”

Oh. Neil leaned back against the arm of the couch. “I didn’t think it was important. Is it going to be a problem?”

Andrew gave him his trademarked ‘don’t be fucking stupid’ look. He worked his jaw, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Neil sighed, trying to figure that out for himself. “It’s…complicated. I really didn’t think it was important. We weren’t all that religious. I don’t believe in anything now. We never celebrated anything. Actually, at home we always put up Christmas lights and a tree in the window, so people wouldn’t get suspicious. It was just a front, of course. I just, don’t see any reason to change that now.”

Andrew didn’t say anything for a moment, before latching on to what Neil wasn’t saying. “Did it work?”

“Sometimes.” He didn’t need to say what happened when people did grow suspicious of Neil or the rest of his family. Andrew already knew. “Did you ever have good holidays?”

Andrew met his gaze unflinching, as always. “Yes. With Cass. And later, with Nicky.”

Neil could picture it; a young Nicky, struggling to raise the difficult teenage Minyard twins, putting up sparse decorations and forcing treats and Christmas music at them. It sounded wonderful, to be honest.

“You and your mom never did anything?”

“Well, some Jewish holidays involve not working, or not eating. And obviously we couldn’t afford to do either of those things. But my mom always lit a candle for _Shabbat_ and _Hanukkah_ , if we had one. Traditionally there are eight, for Hanukkah, but there was no way we were going to get our hands on that every year. It was weird. She converted; the Hatfords aren’t Jewish. But my father’s family is Polish and Jewish. She hated my father. But I think the religion must have brought her some kind of peace. Either that or she was trying to preserve it for me. Give me something of the good from my father. If there ever was any. I have my doubts. He certainly wasn’t demonstrating ‘God’s Love’ or whatever when he was chopping people to pieces. But whatever. But Hanukkah isn’t even that big of a deal to Jewish people, anyway. Not compared to Passover, or Rosh Hashanah.”

Andrew stared at him, and Neil realized he’d been rambling a bit. He swallowed, still feeling a little uncomfortable. It had been a weird and vaguely awkward experience last year when the other Foxes had been trying to celebrate holidays and he’d been planning to die, but at least they hadn’t _known_ that he’d been planning to die, or that he had no concept of how normal, healthy people celebrated. Now he was having to actually _deal_ with it, which was just inconvenient.

Eventually, Andrew unfolded from his position not he other end of the couch, and he leaned forward into Neil’s space, before stealing a quick kiss and, with permission, nestling into Neil’s chest. Apparently it was nap time now.

Neil still had a final left, but he closed his eyes anyway, Andrew’s warmth in the afternoon sun too tempting to pass up. He forgot all about Andrew’s original intent in bringing up the conversation.

 

At the end of that week, when Neil finished his last final, he still had no idea what they would be doing for break. Considering that everyone else seemed to have plans, he guessed that they would be spending their time in Columbia alone, which Neil had to admit didn’t sound like a bad plan at all.

He went straight to the court, rather than the dorms, knowing that Andrew wouldn’t let him anywhere near one for the next several weeks and wanting to take the last opportunity to say goodbye. 

He punched in the code, and threw down his backpack on the couches in the common space, before heading straight into the court. He went to the inner court, and lay down on his back in the middles, spreading his limbs out on the glossy wood. He remembered doing this when he got back from break last year, his body broken and mind spiraling, unable to tell the passing time and trying to deal with the gaps in his memory.

Everything that had happened at Evermore was coming back in bits and pieces, and he thought he had most of it now. Every time he remembered something, it felt like the ground was momentarily ripped out from under him. Free fall was still terrifying.

He shivered, pressing his hands into the floor of the court. He hadn’t felt that in a long time, and the sensation of losing time had been gone for a while now too. He hadn’t thought he’d be here to see this. Hadn’t thought he’d ever have a place to call home, or a people to call family.

He heard the court doors open, but since they were done for break knew it could only be one of two people, so he elected not to move.

Sure enough, moments later he was rewarded with the sight of Andrew approaching him, the look in his eyes saying that he was disappointed but not surprised to find Neil here.

“You know you aren’t even going to be seeing the outside of a court for the next four weeks, right?”

Neil smiled up at him, feeling his anxiety drain away a little. It had been stupid of him to pull at the sensitive strings of his memories of last year. He needed to avoid poking at that still-healing wound, but sometimes it felt like edging at his triggers was testing to see how far he’d come.

“Get up. We’re going.”

Neil obediently took Andrew’s offered hand and let himself be pulled to standing. They left the court, and the short ride in the Maserati back to the dorm was spent in comfortable silence. Neil didn’t ask Andrew where they were going for break; he didn’t care and if Andrew had a plan he wasn’t about to question it.

When they got back to their room Andrew wordlessly threw a bag in Neil’s direction, before packing quickly himself. It was still bizarre that even after packing for two weeks (figuring he could wash for the rest), Neil still had clothes left over that he would have to leave here. It filled him with warmth, to see the things his friends had insisted he buy and wear. Left to his own devices, he would probably still be dressing like a homeless person, ready to fade into the background.

“Shut up,” Andrew said, holding the door open for Neil and gesturing at him that it was time to go.

“I didn’t even say anything.” He passed him and headed down the stairs. “Did everyone else leave already? I thought we’d get to say goodbye.”

Andrew didn’t respond, and Neil hadn’t really been expecting him to. They got back in the car, and Neil relaxed back as Andrew navigated his way onto the freeway heading west. Neil stared at Andrew, making himself comfortable for the drive and enjoying the breeze from their rolled-down windows.

“Staring,” Andrew said. 

Neil just fumbled for his cigarette pack in Andrew’s jacket pocket in response, tapping out two sticks and lighting them, before handing one to Andrew.

When they missed their exit, Neil realized that Andrew had different plans than Columbia. “Uh. Andrew? Where are we going?”

Andrew just grunted, and Neil huffed his annoyance, but he still didn’t say anything. If Andrew wanted him to know, he would have told him. 

In the end, they drove for about four hours. Neil found himself sleeping for part of the time, the comfortable thrum of the Maserati too cozy for him to stay awake. 

He woke to the feeling of the car slowing down. Andrew acknowledged Neil’s consciousness with a flick of his eyes. They were in the woods, with towering trees above them and a setting sun filling the air with golden light. Neil stepped out of the car, stretching, and breathing in the fresh scent and shivering a little. There was snow on the ground, but the sky was clear.

“Are you coming?” Neil turned to find Andrew holding both of their bags. They appeared to be at some kind of woodsy resort, similar to the one they’d visited in the spring but not the same. 

Neil started after Andrew. “You going to tell me where we are now?”

“Can’t believe you didn’t pay attention. You’re getting soft.”

Neither of them mentioned just how true that statement was. They entered the resort, and Neil’s ears prickled at the sound of familiar voices. 

“Neil! Andrew! We’re all checked in!” Allison waved them over to where the rest of the Foxes were lounging around a huge hearth in the grand lounge. 

Neil followed Andrew to the group, feeling distinctly like he’d been had. He noticed that Wymack, Abby, and Bee were there as well, which did nothing to ease his discomfort.

“What’s going on?”

“We thought it might be nice to spend the holiday together. All of us. At least the first week and a half.” Wymack said, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Neil like he was a frightened animal. 

Neil tried to school his features. “You guys really didn’t need to do that. What about your families?”

“We’ll be celebrating later. We thought it was more important to be together this year.” Dan leaned back into Matt’s arms, and he tightened them around her shoulders. “There’ll be time for them later.”

“My family is right here.” Wymack said, and that was that.

“Besides. Hanukkah starts tonight,” Nicky said, giving Neil a tiny hopeful smile and that.That was just.

Neil didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Allison gave them their room keys, and they agreed to meet later for dinner and whatever they had planned for him. 

As soon as the door was closed, Neil threw himself on his stomach on the massive hotel bed, his groan muffled by the quilt. He heard Andrew moving around, but elected to ignore him, choosing instead to wallow in his mortification.

He wrapped his arms around each other above his head, but sighed when he felt fingertips lightly brush his back.

“Do you want to leave?” Andrew’s voice was quiet, but it made Neil’s heart jump the way Andrew’s care always did.

“No. It’s just a little overwhelming.” Neil rolled onto his side, and Andrew’s fingers slipped as he went, until they were resting on the side of his waist. 

Andrew met his gaze with searching eyes, before slumping to lie on his own side facing Neil, never removing his hand.

 

Neil didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until his phone pinged, and he cracked an eye open to see Andrew yawning, his arm in the same place it had been roughly…two hours ago, judging by said phone. Neil grabbed it, rubbing at his eyes and seeing that Nicky was texting on the group chat that they should come down and meet everyone back at the fire.

“Do we have to?” He groaned, but he got up anyway, knowing that Andrew wouldn’t care if they actually just stayed in bed the rest of their stay. “I can’t believe they got Kevin to come so far from an Exy court for so long.”

“Yes. What a mystery.” Neil was suspicious at the lack of inflection in Andrew’s voice, but he let it go and they went to join the rest of the group.

When they were walking up to join everyone, a scent filled Neil’s senses, so familiar overwhelming that he actually stumbled to a halt and closed his eyes. 

Andrew nearly walked into him, and subtly placed a hand on Neil’s lower back when he saw that Neil had stopped. 

“You…You made latkes?” He asked, hating the vulnerability in his voice.

“They probably won’t be as good as you’ve had—we had to make them yesterday and reheat them here, and we’ve never made them before, but. We tried!” Matt held out a plate stacked high, and Neil swallowed several times before reaching for one with a shaking hand. He took a napkin from Matt and wrapped it around the latke.

He held it close, inhaling deeply before eating. The last time he’d had these he’d been twelve, and they’d been on the run in Europe, squatting in some abandoned house in the countryside in France. His mother had managed to get her hands on some bare-bones ingredients, and they’d had a small fire and lit their candle and eaten them with the fierceness that came with scarcity of food. 

Now, he didn’t have to ration anything. There were plenty of latkes—and tons of other food too. It looked like everyone had brought something, from Christmas cookies to veggies (undoubtedly Kevin’s contribution) to wine. Someone had even thought to make Sufganiyah. 

He grabbed another napkin-wrapped latke as everyone dug in, and turned to hand it to Andrew. Andrew didn’t say anything, just dutifully ate the patty and licked his fingers methodically afterward. 

There was a massive Christmas tree in the corner of the lounge, and the fire crackled in the hearth, and Neil didn’t think he’d ever had such a nice winter holiday before in all his life. 

Later, when they were all full and piled together on the overstuffed couches and lounge chairs, someone produced a hanukkiyah from somewhere, making Neil’s heart stop briefly again.

He extracted himself from Andrew’s lap, and went to join Matt where he was placing candles in the menorah. 

“I can’t believe you guys did this for me.” He said softly, so only Matt could hear. 

Matt pulled a box of matches out form his pocket, turning to hit Neil with a sweet smile. “You can’t?”

And well, Neil supposed that was a fair point. He took the box of matches from his friend, striking them and lighting the shammash, before using it to light the first candle. This, the tradition they’d stuck to the most, was his favorite part. His mother had always looked softer, under the dim light of the candle. If they’d had time to light one, it meant they weren’t in imminent danger, and that made her kinder, if no less vigilant. 

“There’s usually a prayer,” Neil said, remembering his mother occasionally whispering it on the road. “But I don’t remember all the words.”

“It’s ok though, right?” Matt asked, wrapping an arm around Neil’s shoulders.

“Yeah. It’s better than ok.”

They all went to bed shortly after that, pleasantly full and warm from spending the time together. Neil undressed in a sort of daze, still overwhelmed by his family. 

Andrew pulled him into bed and he was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

 

His subconscious didn’t seem to know where he was. Or that he was safe. In dreams he was back at the Nest. It was cold in the bedroom, but the handcuffs cutting into his wrists were freezing. 

Riko was sitting on his legs, Jean holding onto his ankles. He tried and tried to scream, but when he tried to open his mouth Riko stuck the tip of his knife in and jammed it against the roof of his mouth. He didn’t cut, but the threat was real enough that Neil stilled under his weight.

But this wasn’t real. It _had_ been real, to be sure. But not anymore. Neil tried to tell himself that, but his dream-state wasn’t able to tell the difference, instead focusing on the sharp-cold press of Riko’s other knife as it dug into the skin of his abdomen, cutting deep and jagged, unafraid to skin the flesh from his bone. Riko pressed the other knife further back into Neil’s throat, until it was touching the back of his throat, gagging him, freezing him in place—

“—Neil.”

Neil came gasping into consciousness. He was suddenly aware of how much all of his muscles had been clenching, as he tried to relaxed them. Andrew wasn’t touching him, thankfully, but was propped up on his side next to where Neil was still frozen on his back.

He couldn’t hold back a choking gag, before curling on his side away from Andrew and pressing his hands against his throat, as if he could remove the sensation of cold metal where it lingered there. 

“Yes or no, Neil?” Andrew asked.

Neil couldn’t answer yet, so he didn’t. Andrew waited. Neil couldn’t look over his shoulder at him, couldn’t speak. Just scrabbled at his throat and tried desperately to take in breath.

After several long, unbearable minutes, he had calmed down enough to get out a hoarse “Yes.”

Andrew moved so slowly, inching his way forward until his front was pressed to Neil’s back, his arms snaking up to wrap around Neil’s shaking form.

Neil couldn’t seem to stop the tremors. His teeth were chattering, though he wasn’t really that cold, and shudders wracked his body. But Andrew’s arms were comforting and strong without making Neil feel like he was trapped. It was protection at his back; not a cage.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but slowly, so slowly, his muscles started to unclench, until he was no longer shaking and could relax back fully into Andrew’s arms. He felt exhausted the way he always did after a panic attack.

“You were gagging,” Andrew said quietly, into the nape of Neil’s neck. 

Neil resisted shuddering again, closing his eyes against the memory and focusing on Andrew’s warm breath at his back.

“He put a knife…” another tremor. “he put it in my throat. To keep me still. When I was in the handcuffs.”

Andrew’s arms tightened minutely, before relaxing again. “Proust would drug me, and then do some of the things he knew my foster fathers had done.”

Neil’s breath caught at the horror of that, but he didn’t react; couldn’t react. That wasn’t why Andrew was telling him. 

“They’re both dead,” he whispered harshly, before turning in Andrew’s arms until he was facing him. “Dead and buried, and we’re _still_ here.”

Andrew’s eyes glinted in the dim moonlight, before leaning forward to press his forehead against Neil’s. 

They shared breath, grounding each other in the present. After a few minutes of this, Andrew asked again.

Neil sighed a yes, closing his eyes when Andrew leaned forward to kiss him. Andrew pecked his lips once, twice, and then deepened the kiss a little, moving their lips together with the ease of familiarity and gently pushing at Neil’s side until he turned onto his back, chasing his lips and bringing his other hand up to card through Neil’s hair.

Andrew was half on top of Neil now, their torsos pressed together as they kissed. Neil broke away from Andrew for air, and Andrew just moved to press open-mouthed kisses along his panting mouth, his nose, his jawline. He moved his mouth over Neil’s face and ghosted kisses over his eyelids, his forehead, before moving down to briefly capture Neil’s mouth again. 

He stayed there only momentarily, before moving down to mouth at Neil’s neck.

“Mark me,” Neil gasped heavily, bringing his own hand up to tangle in Andrew’s hair. “Give me a mark I want.” Not one that was forced.

Andrew’s stare was lava, hot and slow and setting Neil on fire. “Anywhere above the waist.”

Neil’s hands immediately went to Andrew’s strong shoulders as Andrew’s hot mouth latched onto Neil’s neck, biting and sucking a mark just above his collarbone. Neil wouldn’t be able to hide the mark; it would draw attention to himself.

It went against everything people had ever wanted for him; his mother would panic at anything so attention-grabbing. His father would have killed him for sleeping with a boy (or any number of other reasons). And Riko Moriyama would have despised seeing Neil having any kind of pleasure; any kind of joy for himself. 

This was selfish. This mark was something that he chose; something that made the world know that he had chosen Andrew Minyard and Andrew had chosen him back, and there was nothing they could do about it. It made him feel strong.

Andrew’s hands ran up and down his body, pushing his shirt up and feeling the ridges of his scars. They ran over the long, jagged one that Neil had just dreamed of and he shivered, knowing that the wound was long healed but feeling tender as though it was fresh under Andrew’s touch. 

“Ah,” the sound escaped when Andrew’s hands brushed up and over his nipples, and Andrew lifted up from what was undoubtedly an impressive hickey to look at Neil, his mouth a little swollen and eyes dark. 

The memories of last year weren’t completely gone, but being with each other helped. And when Andrew’s hand snaked lower, Neil was able to stay completely grounded in the moment, kept there by Andrew’s gaze and his strength. 

And the next day when the Foxes mentioned Neil’s hickey and exchanged money, and then lit two candles on the menorah, Neil just smiled. There would always be nightmares, but there would also always be Andrew, and the Foxes to bring him back home. 


End file.
